


you've got me wonton more

by deletable_bird



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Bad Puns, Chinese Food, Grinding, M/M, Making Out, One Shot, Pillow Fights, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6144958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deletable_bird/pseuds/deletable_bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“Oh, fuck me,” Dan says by way of reply, his ridiculously lanky legs folding under him on the sofa as he reaches down to the floor.</em> Fluff, 1.1k</p><p>This fic <a href="http://phanficawards.tumblr.com/post/156890640353/phanfic-awards-comedy-award-2016">won 3rd place for BEST COMEDY</a> in the phanfic awards 2016!</p>
            </blockquote>





	you've got me wonton more

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lowbass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lowbass/gifts).



> [ _disclaimer_ ](http://deletablebird.tumblr.com/d)

Phil is sitting in the lounge, having been comfortably settled for several hours, when Dan comes ambling in, toting a large mug of steaming coffee. With a feat requiring no less than an astounding lack of dexterity, he trips over his own two feet, dropping the mug and stumbling towards the couch. The mug falls to the floor, first with a clatter and then the sound of shattering porcelain. Dan lets out a muffled curse, his feet flying up from their resting place on the floor, away from the shards. Phil glances over to the other side of the sofa where Dan has perched himself, like an ungainly bird of prey, one eyebrow raised.

“I thought I was supposed to be the clumsy one,” Phil says.

“Oh, fuck me,” Dan says by way of reply, his ridiculously lanky legs folding under him on the sofa as he reaches down to the floor. He lifts up one hand, a shard of mug gingerly clamped in his fingers, and gives it a death stare.

Phil can feel his eyebrow sneaking still farther up his forehead. A smirk is pulling at the left side of his mouth.

Dan notices Phil’s expression, and shoots him an icy glare. “That wasn’t a fucking invitation, you sex predator,” he scoffs, looking decidedly away from him. Phil closes his laptop and lets it slide off his lap, landing on the sofa cushion beside him.

“I mean it, Lester,” Dan says, glancing up, stifling a smile he probably can’t help with a forced grimace. “Leave me alone.”

Phil turns, hands landing on the cushion just past his laptop and his hips twisting so he’s on all fours. Dan looks a bit scared, but there’s a barely-there smile on his face, so Phil sneaks in closer, letting one hand alight on the warmth of Dan’s knee. It slides, almost absentmindedly, upwards. Dan’s leg twitches under his touch.

They’re inches apart now. Phil lets his lips part slightly, his eyes sliding down to Dan’s mouth. Dan’s blushing furiously. A hum rumbles through Phil’s chest and he lets the smirk properly take hold of his mouth, leaning in just close enough to let their lips brush sweet and almost hesitant. Dan’s hand flies to Phil’s shoulder, clutching.

Phil lets his free hand wander north, trailing featherlight up Dan’s chest over his shirt until the pads of his fingers land on the soft skin just under Dan’s chin. He can feel the bones of Dan’s jaw and it’s pathetically intoxicating. He wants to bite.

Instead, he leans in and lets his lips brush against the shell of Dan’s ear. He licks his lips, suppressing the urge to nibble at the cartilage, and whispers “I think we should have Chinese for dinner.”

He sits back down nearly straight away, mourning the loss of proximity, but he’d really much rather wind Dan up like a clock and silently gloat at the results. He’s not disappointed when Dan lets out a noise not dissimilar to an angry howler monkey and smacks Phil in the face with a pillow.

Phil yelps and scrambles for his own ammunition to retaliate. It takes him a bit and he suffers several vicious hits from Dan’s own armada, but he manages to get his hands on a stray Totoro plushie that’s been floating around their lounge for weeks now and smacks Dan upside the head.

Naturally, he gets walloped with twice as much force in return. The pillow fighting turns into something akin to wrestling, which melts into them lying on the couch, Dan heavy and warm on top of him.

“Hi there,” he pants, and Dan smirks at him.

“Hey,” he replies, and catches Phil up in a proper snog, his fingers digging into the back of Phil’s neck. Before Phil can really register what’s happening, Dan’s tongue is swiping demandingly at his lower lip, hot and wet, and Phil’s got no choice but to open up and then there are two tongues in his mouth and Dan’s grinding down on him just a bit and yeah, this is good. He can roll with this.

Dan breaks away to catch his breath and Phil takes the chance to get his fingers in Dan’s hair, pulling his head to the side and baring the more sensitive side of his neck. Dan’s hips jerk into his even before Phil makes contact, and when he does, digging his teeth softly into the baby-soft skin below the hinge of Dan’s jaw, a breathy, mildly panicked noise escapes into the air somewhere above him.

“You good?” Phil murmurs against the line of Dan’s throat, and can actually feel him swallow.

“Yeah,” he breathes, taking the opportunity to sneak both hands up Phil’s shirt. His fingers are freezing, and Phil wants to squirm away but he can’t and it’s unfairly delicious.

“Fucking―fuck,” Dan half-growls, burying his face in Phil’s hair. “Get the fuck on with it, Phil, please.”

“Get on with what?” Phil hums, mouthing a trail of kisses up towards Dan’s chin. Fingernails dig into the space just under his ribcage and he can’t help rolling his hips up against the taut warmth of Dan’s lower stomach.

“Fucking hell, just fuck me already,” Dan nearly snarls, hands disappearing from Phil’s waist only to seize his face and drag him up into a bruising kiss.

They break apart, both panting. “I would,” Phil manages, “but you know what else sounds really good right now?”

“Are you fucking kidding me―what, Phil?” Dan whines, nuzzling into the junction of Phil’s neck and shoulder. Phil grins, resisting the urge to flip them over and fuck Dan until his eyes roll back in his head.

“That Chinese I mentioned earlier,” he replies, trapping his tongue between his teeth and failing to suppress a grin.

Dan lets out a hopeless noise into his shoulder and goes boneless. “I’d honestly rather eat you, but if you’re so insistent we can put the hanky panky in the closet for tonight.”

“Mmh, I think I’d rather keep it firmly out in the open,” Phil replies, and Dan leans up on his elbows to meet his eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“I am down for the diddly-doo,” Phil answers, his eyebrows taking flight. All the tension in Dan’s body leaves and he sits up, actually throwing his hands up in the air.

“I give up. I’m going to bed. Good night.” He swings his leg off and over, standing up. He nearly trips over his own feet again as he navigates the minefield of smashed porcelain on the lounge floor, and pauses just before leaving the room. He looks over his shoulder, one hand resting on the door frame, as if he’s waiting for Phil’s assumedly inevitable protest.

“Don’t forget to dim sum lights, Daniel,” he says instead, leaning up on one elbow and letting his his eyebrows run wild. “Don’t want the electricity bill getting too high.”

Dan’s through the door faster than anyone’s seen him move in a long time, and Phil flops back onto the couch, cackling. He doesn’t regret a word.

**Author's Note:**

> Based off [this](http://deletablebird.tumblr.com/post/140106308402/imagine-your-otp-10) prompt and beta'd by the wonderful [Laney](https://twitter.com/oftenoverlaps)!


End file.
